It had to be Jyou
by Emilia
Summary: Another lengthy story by me! It's a Jyomato (which means YAOI!!!) that I've been writing on the high of a theory and diso music. (corrently contains parts 1/?)


Disclaimer: As much as I want them, I don't own them. As an official She-pimp, however, I _do_ own several male authors that bring me lots of money and who I enjoy kicking while screaming "Get in the corner bitch!" *cough* moving on…

Yare, yare… It's me again! Boo! Today, I have brought to you a crazy semi-AU ish fic that I would like to call It had to be Jyou. It also features my 2nd favorite yaoi pairing- Jyoto (with daiken beign my first.). I've been _dying_ to write a fic like this for ages and now that I'm temporarily on leave from my kensuke-ish daiken stories, I've got time to do whatever the fluff I want to! Currently, I'm working on part 2 of the disturbing fic "Midnight in the garden of Good and Evil", a kensuke collaberation with Kendra, the digimon empress, and other stuffage! Yes, yes… Emilia tells all…

One more thing- I _love_ the new chaptering system on here! Now I can make a huge multi-part story and it only counts as one story! I _will_ get to 50! I will, I will, I will! And one last warning- this has yaoi _and_ Jyoto, which features bishonen Jyou with bishonen Yamato. If you're a stubborn pain in the @$$ and live on taito as a religion, then don't come telling _me_ that Taichi and Yamato were meant for each other because I don't really care. Jyou, Daisuke and Ken are my favorite characters, so there! Okay I've probably insulted a bunch of people now… wait! Don't gooooo!!!! *cries* I-I… just read it!

It had to be Jyou

Part 1: Saturday night Kido

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Jyou

He loved the 21st century, absolutely loved it. What was more fabulous was that crazy idea of his had actually _worked_! Crossing from the 20th century to the 21st had actually caused things to move backwards. While technology thrived with computers that could project virtual reality into your living room, the trends began to jump backwards. A few years ago, girls wore big T-shirts, leg warmers, jean- jackets, and neon colors while men wore tight striped shirts, tight jeans, and had hair that went up and over.

Now the year was 2015 and he thought he was in heaven. It was the time for bell bottoms, for silk shirts, for afros, for disco. People wore elevator shoes, gave Areatha Franklin R-E-S-P-E-C-T, and did the hustle. Gold chains no longer meant you were a pimp, purple no longer meant you were gay, and being able to shake your groove thang no long meant you were a slut. The 70's had come back and he loved it.

When he was younger, he had fallen in love with his fathers old records and CDs that he kept laying around, playing them late into the night, watching "Saturday night fever" endlessly as he tried to copy John Travolta's moves. He could find the beat to any song, he could dance to any song and- they thought he was a looser.

Yagami Taichi and his sister Hikari had snickered at him. "Get real! Like when are you ever going to need that?" They had laughed when he hummed 'I believe in miracles' to himself while he walked along in the Digital World.

Takenouchi Sora had rolled her eyes. "That's really out there, ya know?" She had frowned as tapped his foot to the rhythm of a song playing in a department store.

Tachikawa Mimi had laughed her head off. "You'll _never _attract girls with something like that!" She had laughed harder as he sang along with 'Can't get enough of your love babe' in the car.

Takhashi Takeru and Hida Iori had sighed exasperatedly. "That's _not_ something to be proud of…" 

Inoue Miyako and Izumi Koushiro had squinted their eyes at him. "Are you _feeling _okay?"

Motomiya Daisuke and Ichijouji Ken had shrugged. "If that's what you like Jyou-san…"

He looked out the window of his apartment. How sorry they had all been when the 70's came back. He had _told _them that disco wasn't dead… The only one who had ever supported him on his theory had been Ishida Yamato. "Jyou, you can like whatever you want. Don't listen to Taichi. He never knows what he's saying. And if it's something you love so much, I'm sure it'll come back…"

Jyou smiled as he walked out the door. It was back, he was in the lead, and nothing would stop him now. When the night came, they all saw who he really was- every disco loving inch of him. He had the white suit, the blue silk shirt, and the gold chains. Best of all, he had the groove. He laughed as everyone struggled to learn the bump. He laughed as they watched him in awe- he was Kido Jyou, ruler of the dance floor.

They called him Disco Jyou.

On a night like tonight, he didn't feel like dancing right away. Someone screamed "It's Disco Jyou!" as he stepped inside the dance club. He grinned, the ladies loved anyone who could dance. He handed his coat to the coat check and sat down at a table near the dance floor. People started running to sit near him, yelling out drink orders.

"Get Disco Jyou a mai tai!"

"Get him a margarita!"

"Get him a daiquiri!"

"Get him some sake!"

"Get him a beer!"

"Get him a white russian!"

"Get him a mudslide!"

"Get him a martini!" Ah, he loved it all… Life was good. The owner of the club had finally found a band that played disco (most bands had dwindled away after the sudden return of 'lame music'.), the floor had just been waxed for him, he'd probably go home drunker than hell and to top it all off, they playing his song.

He stood up and the crowds parted to let him onto the floor. Men and women alike squealed as he stepped in the center, a spotlight going on over him as he assumed his position, hands at his sides, savoring the suspense he was putting them all in. The lights on the floor began to flash just for him as his hips shot from side to side, his back jerking to the rhythm at each word, at each beat. One and two and three and four and one and two and three and four… 

His head swayed, his face said "attitude", his fans said "Go Disco Jyou!" One and two and three and four and one…

Not missing a beat, he closed his eyes, letting the music swallow him, guide him even more. One and tow and three and four and one and two and…

"Go Disco Jyou go!" Three and four and one and two and three and four and one and two and three and four and- he opened his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks. Up on stage, there was a light, a fallen angel from heaven holding a microphone, singing his heart out. His blonde hair glistened against all the lights, changing from blue to green to pink to white to yellow to…

A hum went over the crowd. 'Disco Jyou stopped dancing during _his_ song!'. The band stopped and looked around. Why was it so quiet? The singer tugged on his black silk shirt, running his fingers though his hair before looking questioningly down at him with those big blue eyes.

And for once in his life, Kido Jyou's feet were life cement.

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Yamato

He couldn't believe it. A couple of years ago, his band had been playing the B52's, watching everyone sing along with "Rock Lobster". Now here he was, playing a gig in a disco club, singing Taste of Honey's "Boogie Oogie" with the bass pounding, the guitar screaming, and the drums dancing. They had all told him that this club was the best place to play. It was where _he_ liked to dance; where Disco Jyou got down.

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Disco Jyou…you egotistical son of a- Yamato had smirked, remembering how Jyou had once told him that disco wasn't dead; it was gonna come back and he'd be in the lead. They would worship him, the god of disco, they would wax the floors for him, buy him any drink imaginable, touch him to be blessed, and they would call him Disco Jyou. Disco Jyou, the god of disco, scourge of the dance floor.

Now Ishida Yamato looked down with his aqua eyes, running his fingers through his straw colored hair. Jyou stared back, his eyes wide as the lights of the club danced on his blue hair and his white suit. Clutching to the collar of his shirt, Yamato kneeled down on the edge of the stage, placing his face near Jyou's. "Something wrong Jyou? I _was_ told this was your favorite song…"

"I…" Jyou blinked. "I'm sorry. Keep playing… please…" He tried to move but couldn't.

Yamato looked down at him, arching his thin eyebrows. "Maybe you should sit down Jyou. You look rather… shook up."

"M-maybe I should." A hum went over the crowd. Disco Jyou wasn't going to _dance_??? He slowly managed to back up to his table, sitting down and taking a shaky sip of one of the many drinks ordered for him. It was silent for at least five minutes, then Yamato's band started to play again. A few minutes later, a few people began to dance and soon, everyone else joined in. Once again, the club was hopping.

Yamato looked over at Jyou who was slouched over in his chair, looking at him. He took another sip of one of his many drinks, then hid his face in his hands. On the dance floor, people were discussing Disco Jyou's strange behavior. He _loved_ to dance. What had happened?

He signaled his band to play some stuff that wouldn't require him singing; he was going to take a break. He hopped off the stage and walked through the crowds of the disco dancing people. A reunion was in order between the holder of friendship and the holder of honesty.


End file.
